


Promise Me, Brother

by Falcine



Series: Wind Walker [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is the Avatar, Gen, Obi Wan is the Last Airbender, this is my best crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcine/pseuds/Falcine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the dusty, derelict streets of Ba Sing Se to the dancing flames of the Fire Nation Palace, Obi-Wan and Anakin save each other in their own ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ba Sing Se

**Author's Note:**

> Never take this AU away from me.

By now, it is only pure instinct that drives Anakin’s high kick as Obi-Wan ducks. A quick burst of flames sends the boulder flying away into a store front. 

What follows is as silent as Ba Sing Se ever gets--the stunned scattered murmurs, muffled gasps of shock, mostly the dusty sound of footsteps rushing away from the scene and doors slamming shut. All this is nothing compared to the usual chatter and clopping-hooves-and-creaking-wheels the city runs on. With a dull thud, the boulder falls to the ground,  _ crack-cracks  _ of smashing fruit following it.

The look they exchange afterwards once Obi-Wan has straightened is fleeting, but too familiar, and Anakin jerks away with a scowl, turning instead to the Earth Kingdom soldiers before them. 

The slow shift of the Earth soldiers’ stances grinds dirt and rocks to the ground. Anakin feels it deep in his bones and knows this will end in violence. 

“Halt!” one of the soldiers cries, voice strong and emotionless. “You’re surrounded.” 

Anakin glances to the side. The man isn’t technically wrong--he is met with hardened stares all around them from under the shadows of their hats--but it wasn’t as if this made much of a difference in the long run. A small smile settles on his face. 

Beside him, Obi-Wan heaves a long sigh. “What a shocking turn of events” he mutters. Then, he turns to Anakin with a mockery of a smirk. “It seems we aren’t as welcome here as you’d like.” 

“Shut up,” he snarls at Obi-Wan. “This was your idea in the first place.”

Obi-Wan shrugs, holding up his bound hands. “Do I have to remind you whose bright idea this unfortunate romp around the world was again?”

“It was your idea to come to Ba Sing Se,” Anakin says, his patience wearing thin. The sickly sweet smell of fruit from the smashed stand is thick in the air, and he thinks of the absurdity they are--Avatar and wanted man, General and prisoner, too long of a history between them in too many painful places--standing in the worn down streets of the Earth Kingdom. 

Searching, searching, and Anakin feels the familiar hot rage bloom in his chest and has to take a deep breath to not murder Obi-Wan right then and there. 

A soldier takes a step forward. The earth shifts, tension cracking something deep down beneath the surface. 

“Stand down,” the leader of the small group of soldiers says firmly, eyes narrowing. “You’re both under arrest.” 

Obi-Wan ignores it all. “If I recall, I simply suggested that should one wish to not be found, Ba Sing Se would be the obvious choice, and then you dragged me here all by yourself.” 

For all his life, Anakin has been listening to Obi-Wan’s half truths and misguided advice. A hot flash of anger fuels his rush forward, curls his hands into fists at Obi-Wan’s collar. He thinks he understands Monk Windu, now, commends the man on his excellent self control in the face of Obi-Wan’s brand of nonsense. “She’s not  _ here, _ is she?” he snarls in Obi-Wan’s face.

The small smile on Obi-Wan’s face tells him everything he needs to know. 

Anakin scoffs, tossing Obi-Wan aside. The man stumbles, shoulders limp, and almost falls down. Now that he knows there is nothing important here, he wants to burn the entire city to the ground. 

Then, “Stand down!” the soldier shouts again, taking another step forward. 

Anakin grinds his teeth.

For all that he pretends to not care, Anakin knows Obi-Wan couldn’t take down a group of Earth Kingdom soldiers with both hands tied. Still, Obi-Wan is already standing upright again, rolling his eyes and saying, “Can’t we do something about this, then? I’d imagine you’d want to be back on the road by now, Anakin.” 

Anakin bristles at  _ we  _ but before he can so much as snap back, a pillar of earth explodes between them.

“You’re under arrest,” the soldier says again, firmly, hands out stance wide. 

He is already moving--so are all the soldiers surrounding them--Anakin slams his foot into the ground, driving the pillar back down. Looks at Obi-Wan, sees something other than defeat or wry humour or a tired, empty ache in the other man’s eyes. 

There is no time to think. Anakin brings down a hand in a slice, cuts through the ropes binding Obi-Wan’s hands like they were never there, and they settle back to back, familiar, warm, more grounded than this sorry mess of a Kingdom.

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong idea,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin can hear the grin in his voice. 

None of the soldiers reply. They move as a unit, feet stomping, the deep rumble of marches resonating in the air. 

“I really hope you can take care of that,” Obi-Wan shouts over the barrage of rocks flying their way. 

Anakin ignores him and slides into a sweep kick, dodging most of the boulders and sending a wave of flames towards the soldiers, who take involuntary steps back. The heat is exhilarating, and he leaps up, meeting one of the soldiers head on. 

They spar, just a bit. Anakin bares his teeth and slashes out with whips of fire. He crouches, grinning wildly when he sees the soldier’s eyes widen as he stumbles back. 

Anakin rushes up, fists hitting flesh. 

The soldier cries out, struggling to regain his stance, but Anakin claps his hands and the ground shakes beneath them. Another quick thrust of flame to the chest and the man goes down. 

“A little help here?” comes Obi-Wan’s shout, and Anakin rolls his eyes before turning.

Obi-Wan is, to be fair, holding his own. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he watches the airbender blast three men away with one turn, then turning and blocking the quick rock strikes from the side with another gust of wind. 

Still, there are too many soldiers for one man to handle. Anakin can feel Obi-Wan wildly lashing out, stray bursts of wind whipping the dust around the shabby streets.

He takes in a deep breath, then dives into the fray. 

“You’re losing your touch!” he shouts, laughing and letting loose with a stream of fire that surrounds them. 

From inside, he cannot see the soldiers, but that doesn’t matter. 

Obi-Wan settles down, giving him a dirty look. He sweeps back his hair and adjusts his robes, pointedly rubbing at his wrists. “It’s a bit hard to practice these days, you know.” 

Despite everything, Anakin finds himself snorting slightly in amusement.

Suddenly, a barrage of rocks comes flying into their bubble of flame. Obi-Wan blows some away and Anakin catches the others. The laughter dies down into only the dull roar of the fire, and Anakin stomps out, flings the rocks and some others more back at the soldiers no doubt surrounding them beyond the flames. 

Anakin sobers, alert. Obi-Wan leans down to pick up a plank of wood that has fallen at their feet and hefts it up, weighing it. 

“You’re still using that old trick?” 

Obi-Wan almost looks offended. “Old trick?” he exclaims. “There’s nothing wrong with a little precision, Anakin. More civilized.”

Anakin looks down at his mostly missing, definitely useless hand. “Civilized,” he says. “Sure.” 

At that, Obi-Wan doesn’t even look sorry, but Anakin supposes he can’t really blame the man. 

He tries to summon the heat to feel angry--thinks about how Padmé isn’t here, how they’re in the lower circle of Ba Sing Se for  _ nothing,  _ how Obi-Wan ruined his life, how much he wants Obi-Want to burn--but it feels like all of his strength is in the spinning, raging fire around them. 

“Get ready,” he murmurs, and Obi-Wan actually looks startled at the warning. 

Anakin takes in another breath and releases the flames. 

Instantly, they move. Years of fighting together has taught Anakin everything Obi-Wan will do. He ducks beneath the swirling sword of air as Obi-Wan swings, cutting through stone and into flesh. In the next moment, he is kicking out with fire and breathing life into the flames with air, setting buildings aglow. 

Roofs cave, trapping a soldier. 

He backs up against a wall, punching another flying rock projectile out of the air. When he looks to his side, Obi-Wan has his hands on his knees, head down, panting. 

Still, the soldiers come. They seem more organized, now, and Anakin wonders if it really was just a coincidence that they’d been spotted, here, today. Now. It seems like for every soldier they take out, another joins the ranks, feet marching in unison, dirt clouding the air. 

The street suddenly cracks down the middle, and Anakin feels the rush of earthen walls, coming up. He backs down, bumps into Obi-Wan, pushes out to stop the tent from trapping them within. Still, the wall is relentless, and Anakin drives his foot into the ground but still can feel the weight of the soldiers’ wills, bearing down on him. 

“I thought you were supposed to be the best bender in the world,” Obi-Wan comments, sounding actually breathless. 

Anakin grits his teeth, arms trembling from the strain of keeping the walls from collapsing in and crushing them. “You try holding back a dozen other benders on your own, will you?”

Obi-Wan puts a hand on the rock wall in response. “How thick do you think this is?” 

“What?” 

There is a savage grin that belongs to the past on Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin doesn’t think he’s seen the man look more alive than right now in a long time. “How thick do you think the rock wall is?”

A slow smile blooms on his own face in response. “Thin enough to cut through, probably.” 

Obi-Wan throws his hands out, then rubs them together. He flicks his robes back, just slightly, and steps back, lowering himself into a classic airbending stance. 

Anakin almost laughs again at the dramatics. “Hurry it up, won’t you?” 

With one last look back--and there is a strange distance in Obi-Wan’s eyes now--he grips his wooden hilt in front of him and swings up--

Anakin hardly feels it, but the sound of exploding rock that follows afterwards almost deafens him.

There, standing amidst all the rubble, Obi-Wan grins in triumph. 

He does not see the boulder coming his way. 

Without meaning to, Anakin has run to stand in front of Obi-Wan, turning so his shoulder bears the brunt of the damage. Something cracks, and Anakin grunts, feeling the heavy rock dig into his flesh and scrape down his arm. He brings his heel down harshly onto the boulder when it hits the ground, watches in satisfaction as it shatters into thousands of pieces. 

Obi-Wan is still standing, looking back at Anakin with shock in his eyes. “Thank you,” he says, genuine for the first time in a long time. Today is a day of those, Anakin thinks, and perhaps something lighter touches his heart, something that doesn’t feel like the ever burning stream of fire living in his chest these days.

Briefly, Anakin allows himself to miss the times when they would spar with others and each other, when the world was still bright and the air around them was still clean. 

Then, the soldiers are moving again, the relentless heavy marching like anchors on his heart. Dust flies up, and Anakin’s eyes water. 

Anakin finds his patience stretching thin. 

He closes his eyes, reaches for that hidden spot deep inside himself that he never touches anymore, feels the warm glow like old dreams. 

The Avatar state has always felt like a warm embrace--whose, he does not know, but Anakin does not need warmth, not now. 

When he opens his eyes again, he sees the shambling streets of Ba Sing Se. The Earth Kingdom is falling apart, states vying for separation since even before the war, and this pathetic city is all the Earth King has to speak of to represent the once glory of a dying country.

Mud streaks the sides of buildings, and everything carries the stench of poverty and failure. 

No one emerges from the lower circles of Ba Sing Se clean again. 

There is nothing of the decadence of the capital, nothing of the burning heat and passion of the Fire Nation, nothing to hold your back straight for. 

Anakin sees the Earth soldiers, so small against this huge, sprawling city. 

The air gathers in his hands. He twists and the whirlwind builds, then when Anakin flings his arms out, all the dust and debris and scattered rock and wood in the street clears.

The soldiers have all been blown back, and Anakin crushes his hand into a fist, watching in satisfaction as the ground beneath them reaches up to trap the remaining men. 

“Tell your King he shouldn’t have done that,” Anakin spits, looking down at the groaning men.

One of the soldiers looks up with him and winces, but he doesn’t seem to shrink away. There is defiance and rage rooted in the stubborn jut of the man’s chin. Dressed in Earth Kingdom colours, it looks like an insult. It seems as if he is about to say something, so Anakin holds out his hand and wrenches the air from his lungs. 

“Ana--” 

“Shut up,” Anakin growls, eyes alight on the choking soldier. 

When at last the soldier’s chin drops, the fitful transgression gone from his tortured expression, Anakin turns. 

“Let’s go,” he says, reaching out to grab onto Obi-Wan’s robes roughly. 

They walk through the battered streets of Ba Sing Se, peasants peeking out from behind shabby shopfronts, the city somehow brought to dead silence in their wake. 

Ba Sing Se’s lower circle was decrepit, every man for himself, devoid of even the iron fisted rule of the Dai Li, brought to its knees by Anakin alone. 

“We’ll have to go back to the Fire Nation for supplies because of this failed trip,” Anakin abruptly says, spinning around to stare at Obi-Wan. 

“Are there not enough luxury silks with us right now for your liking?” Obi-Wan asks, shoulders sagging again and voice dulled.

“You will tell me where Padmé is,” Anakin says forcefully.

Obi-Wan remains silent, lips set in a stubborn line. Defiant.

“You  _ will, _ ” Anakin says, and drags Obi-Wan in close. He hopes this is enough of a warning, that Obi-Wan would come to his senses, that he could finally,  _ finally  _ see Padme again after so much searching and trampling all over the world. 

This time, there is no hint of humour in the lines of Obi-Wan’s face. “We both know you won’t kill  _ me, _ ” Obi-Wan says softly. “Ask me again when we get back to your precious Fire Nation.”

Anakin nods, sharply. “I will,” he promises. 


	2. The Palace

“So, you have failed yet again, Anakin,” the Fire Lord says, hands clasped in front of the flickering flames. 

He flinches back, looks down just once, then lifts his face to meet Palpatine’s yet again. “No, my Lord, I just need more time.” 

Palpatine hums, a long, drawn out sound of contemplation that buzzes through the air. It sends Anakin’s nerves on edge, and he presses his lips tight together, stretching up to keep his eyes on the Fire Lord. He breathes shallowly through his nose, trying to stem the anxious flow of fear churning in his stomach.  _ I’m sorry I’m sorry,  _ he thinks, and if anything it hurts the most because he knows Palpatine is  _ disappointed.  _

“I think, Anakin, that you’ve had quite enough of time,” Palpatine says softly. 

His eyes widen. “No!” Then, “My lord,” he hastily adds. “I haven’t found her yet.” 

“Perhaps she was never meant to be found,” Palpatine says, shrugging. “You have other duties to tend to, Anakin. Don’t forget that we haven’t won this war yet.” 

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Anakin says, “but I need to find her. She wouldn’t have just left without a reason. I…” 

“You’ve wasted far too much time on this pointless endeavor,” Palpatine says, his voice flat. Anakin feels a cool panic rush through his limbs despite the heat still emanating from the dancing fire. “You must cease this foolish search.” 

His feet find the ground before he has the time to think of how ridiculously stupid of an idea this. Anakin scrambles forward, still looking up at the Fire Lord. “No, no, my Lord, I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Palpatine stands as well. “You dare defy your Fire Lord?” He holds his hands out, very still. 

_ No,  _ Anakin thinks, but to obey means to let go of Padmé. 

A flash of anger, disappointment, distaste. The Fire Lord has noticed his hesitance. 

Before Anakin can deny anything, the arc of lightning flies from the Fire Lord’s hands. 

He falls. 

There is nothing but screaming in his head. 

Anakin pants, pain shooting through his bones, back arching in the air. 

“Will you obey your Lord?” Palpatine shouts.

His body refuses to obey him. Anakin clenches his teeth, bites down hard, refuses to scream. He twists, craning his neck, and he sees the Fire Lord’s shadowed face, mouth bared in a wide grin. 

Palpatine laughs, and there is a brief reprieve.

Anakin’s head falls back against the ground, eyes closed. He feels his limbs twitching, feebly, but there is no strength left in his muscles, nothing but the phantom memory of pain. 

“Will you obey your Lord?” Palpatine asks again, his voice softer and rasping this time. 

Despite his best efforts, a low whine escapes Anakin’s throat. “My...my Lord,” he says, breathing ripping pain into his chest. “I must find her,” he murmurs.

The screams come, then, when Palpatine strikes again. 

Anakin gives into it, loses himself, tries to draw onto that place deep inside where everything was calm and nothing hurt. 

But of course, since Padmé’s left, there’s been nothing there. 

“Please,” Anakin hears himself saying, his voice mangled by the onslaught of lightning and pain and fear. “Please, my Lord, I need… I need Padme.” 

When, finally, Palpatine is seated back on his throne and Anakin lies prone at the foot of it, the Fire Lord relents.

“Very well, Anakin,” he says. “I must commend your determination, my boy.” 

“My Lord?” It is all he can manage to say.

Palpatine slowly raises his hand, and Anakin flinches back. He thinks he sees the Fire Lord’s smile grow wider at that, but there is too much buzz in his head to bring himself to care. It’s all he can do to nurse the burning ember in his chest, make sure his fire hot rage doesn’t go out. 

Then, Palpatine waves in a clear dismissal. “Go, then, Anakin. Find her. Consider this your final chance.” 

Anakin struggles to his knees. “Thank you, my Lord,” he says, shakily bowing. 

Then, he pushes himself up, again and again, stumbling as he walks but leaving the room of his own power nonetheless.

When at last he reaches his chambers, he’s disgusted to find his hand shakes when he reaches out to push the door open. 

Of course, there is only Obi-Wan inside, seated lightly on a couch, bound hands held awkwardly in front of him. 

“Got orders from your master, then?” Obi-Wan asks, looking up. 

Anakin doesn’t deign this with an answer. 

He tries not to feel anything at how Obi-Wan’s eyes widen in shock when he steps into the room proper either, tries not to care at all. 

“Spirits, Anakin, what happened?” 

His smile is a bitter twist of his lips, and it’s all he can manage. “The Fire Lord didn’t like how much time I was wasting,” he admits, and this isn’t right he isn’t to look weak in front of Obi-Wan, but when he walks he feels his bones creak and he is so  _ tired.  _

Even when he takes in deep, soothing breaths, the ember of rage in his heart refuses to flare. It sputters and weakens, and Anakin desperately tries to grasp for the strengthening glow. But it isn’t there. 

There is something perverse and  _ wrong  _ about lightning, and Anakin feels his emotions scrambled up in his brain, like Palpatine had taken his mind and twisted it. Like Palpatine had cracked something deep inside and broke what it meant to be Anakin Skywalker.

Obi-Wan stands, looking as if he is about to move to Anakin--to do, what? Support him? Comfort him? There is nothing Obi-Wan can say to make anything better again. 

He pushes away Obi-Wan’s concern and collapses onto the seat of the couch, leaning his head back.

“He gave me one last chance,” Anakin says, and it is a victory when his voice doesn’t crack. “I’m never going to see her again.” 

The words burn more than anything ever did, coming from his throat. Anakin hates himself more than anything, like there is a dark lump of coal stuck in his heart, nothing else. 

Even the fireplace has gone out after so long with no one to tend it. 

The room is chilly. Anakin almost misses the dull gritty warmth of the Earth Kingdom, misses the solid assuredness of Earth beneath his feet and a promise in his heart. 

Then, he hears Obi-Wan shifting. “Anakin…,” he says, resting his hands on Anakin’s shoulder. It is almost comforting. 

He cracks an eye open, tilting his head to look at the airbender. Obi-Wan is staring at him with soft eyes, and Anakin has feared this moment for years, now, feared being so helpless and defenceless with Obi-Wan around. 

But there is no violence in Obi-Wan’s limbs, not even a taunt on his lips. Instead, he works his jaw, seems to battle with something inside himself. 

Then, “I’ll tell you where she is,” Obi-Wan finally says. “I promise.”


End file.
